


Familial Bonds

by palmsandsunshine



Category: Haikyuu!!, 富豪刑事 Balance:UNLIMITED | Fugou Keiji: Balance:Unlimited (Anime)
Genre: Arranged Marriage, Comedy, Dialogue Heavy, Domestic Fluff, F/M, Family, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Marriage, Romantic Comedy, romcom
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-10
Updated: 2020-07-15
Packaged: 2021-03-02 20:35:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,522
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24112912
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/palmsandsunshine/pseuds/palmsandsunshine
Summary: “What the hell is that?”“It’s a plane, Haru.”“I can see that, Daisuke,” Haru snapped. “Why does it say KAMBE/SHIMIZU in big gold letters across the sides?”“Because it’s my family’s plane.”“Your familyownsa Boeing 747?”“...yes? Didn’t I just say that?”Crazy Rich Asians but with the casts of Fugou Keiji and Haikyuu!!
Relationships: Iwaizumi Hajime/Oikawa Tooru, Kanbe Daisuke/Katou Haru, Sawamura Daichi/Sugawara Koushi
Comments: 25
Kudos: 201





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Ok so how has this not been done yet?? 
> 
> Since we only have two episodes of Balance: Unlimited and don't know too much about other characters, I’ve decided to use other anime characters to supplement the story… hopefully the presence of these characters isn’t too distracting. So for the time being, here is Crazy Rich Asians Balance: Unlimited, featuring Haikyuu Characters!
> 
> Also, if you guys follow my other stories, you'll know I usually write a story in its entirety first, and then publish after it's all completely edited and revised. I did not do that with this one. So it may seem a little scatter-brained, but I'll go back later and fix the weird shit but I just needed to get this idea out there.

> **London, Late-1980s**
> 
> Kambe Kiyoko ignored the whispers that drifted past her ears. She knew she was a sight to behold. A Japanese female sitting amongst the most powerful men of the MI6 organization, during a time when both Asians and females weren’t expected to be part of such organizations. She smirked, crossing her right leg over her left.
> 
> Her husband, sitting to her left, was only half Japanese, so he blended into the mix of tall, white British men easily. Kiyoko herself was the real standout. A shock of black hair and a red dress amidst a sea of blonde hair and black suits.
> 
> Kiyoko came from a wealthy family of technological developers, one of the most influential in Japan. While studying engineering in England, she met her current husband, the son of one of the top MI6 agents, and fell in love.
> 
> “If I may interject,” one of the men sitting across the conference table from her said, meeting her eyes, “but why do we have this… Nip here sitting at the table. Does she even understand what’s going on here? Is she cleared for this mission?”
> 
> A few of the other men bristled, especially the ones who knew exactly who Kiyoko was.
> 
> “I understand perfectly,” Kiyoko said cooly, meeting the gaze of the older man with a glare of her own. “It is quite critical I be here for this meeting, considering  _ my company _ is providing all the technology needed for it.”
> 
> “Miss Kiyoko is Mister Kambe’s wife, General Thomas,” a timid old man, one of the strategists, piped up from somewhere down the conference table. “She is the heir to Shimizu Group and Shimizu Technology Corporations, based in Japan. She will be developing the weapons and support items needed for this mission.”
> 
> The man paled. Kiyoko had twice the power the General did. Firstly, as a Kambe-Smith, the legendary line of agents stemming all the way to the agency’s foundation in 1909. Then, as a Shimizu, the MI6’s go-to developer for new technology to supplement missions. If her company pulled out, the MI6 would have no one to rely on for their tech needs.
> 
> The General insulted the wrong woman.
> 
> “I think the question you need to be asking yourself is—are  _ you still cleared _ for this mission? I want you out of my sight.”
> 
> The General stood up from his seat and scurried out the room, metaphorical tail between his legs.

* * *

**A Café in New York City, 2019**

Haru didn’t realize Daisuke was behind him until a warm hand landed on his shoulder and a kiss was pressed to the top of his head. He turned with a small smile on his face, sliding over the plate and cup he already ordered for him. Because  _ of course _ he did.

Daisuke _tsk_ ed and sat down in the booth across from Haru, pointedly ignoring the satisfaction on Haru’s face when Daisuke looked down at the plate of crepes and fresh fruit. He narrows his eyes at the receipt crumpled on the table next to Haru’s cleared plate.

“Wasn’t it my turn to pay today?”

“You snooze, you lose. By the way, how many times did you hit the snooze button today?”

“I woke up on time,” Daisuke said, petulantly. He took a sip of his coffee, immediately feeling the caffeine sooth his throbbing headache. Or maybe it was just the placebo effect. “I just got a call from Tokyo that occupied my morning.”

“Oh?”

“I’m sorry for being late today. Maybe you should’ve slept at my apartment last night. It’s closer to the office, anyways.”

“No, I can’t always use that excuse. Besides, I needed to water my plants before they died,” Haru waved him off with an easy grin. Pushing his already-finished plate of pancakes away so he had space to rest his arms, Haru leaned in conspiratorially, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “So? What was it about? Did your sister meet a married man and have a  _ most meretricious affair? _ Was someone assassinated? Did someone forget to thank before a meal?!”

“Not quite that dramatic, no,” Daisuke chuckled a bit, picking up his fork to eat. “It was from my best friend, Daichi. He just proposed to his boyfriend and the wedding’s in a few months. He was asking me if I wanted to come back to Japan and be his best man.”

Haru’s face lit up. “Daichi's engaged? That’s the one you’ve known since childhood, right? You should go!”

“But we have so many things to work on… the Investigation Division’s finally giving us some high-profile cases and we’re probably going to get more—”

“If you ask for an extended leave of absence a few weeks in advance, Kiyomizu-san’s sure to give it to you. We are, after all, his star team of detectives…”

Haru’s voice lilts upwards at the end, in a sing-songy manner. His eyes were gleaming even as he reached over the table to steal Daisuke’s fork right from his hands and take a bite of his crepe. Daisuke just let him, a pleased smile on his face as he watched his boyfriend and partner stuff his cheeks.

“Humbleness if not one of your star qualities, it seems.”

“If you were expecting me to be humble, you’ve made a dire mistake, Kambe,” Haru teased. “After all, we know you’re just with me for my hot bod.”

“That, among other things.”

Haru smirked, his eyes shining with something hot and excited. Daisuke pushed down the urge to reach forward, ignoring the churning in his belly.

“I’ll go to Japan if you come with me…?”

Haru’s gaze snapped up and he stopped chewing immediately. “W-wha— ?”

His voice is muffled through the food in his mouth.

Daisuke smirked, picking up a paper napkin and holding it out to Haru. “Don’t talk with your mouth full, Darling. And you heard what I said. I want you to come back to Tokyo with me. It will be a great vacation for us. You can see Suzue again.”

“Oh, I miss her so much! She hasn’t come to New York in months!” Haru sighed, stabbing the fork through a piece of crepe and holding it up to feed Daisuke. Obediently, he moved his head forward and closed his teeth around the piece as Haru continued talking. “I guess you’re right. I don’t think I’ve had a proper vacation since I graduated from the Academy…”

“All the more reason to accompany me.”

“And I could visit Ryo,” Haru said. “I haven’t seen him in three years.”

“Your former partner in the Investigation Division?” Daisuke reclaimed his fork and continued eating, looking up every once in a while to maintain the conversation. He didn’t like the resigned look that appeared on Haru’s usually vibrant face. 

“Yeah, him. He was my best friend, too. Before he moved to Tokyo.”

“You’ll have time to visit him. You can meet my mom, too.”

“W-wha— wait, did you— whoa, I’m so—” Haru stuttered. The way his cheeks darkened pleased Daisuke intensely. “You want to introduce me to your  _ mother?” _

“Yes, that’s what I said,” Daisuke calmly stated, taking another sip of his coffee. It was getting a bit too cold for his taste, but his crepes were almost finished so he decided to bear with it for the time being. “We’ve been dating for two years already, I don’t think it’s too soon…”

“No, I’m just… surprised. You’ve never really told me much about her.”

Daisuke merely shrugged. “There’s not much I  _ can _ say about her. It’s much better for you to meet her first. I might scare you off before you make up your mind.”

“Ooh, that sounds ominous. Tell me, Dai, are you from a secret family of assassins and you’re bringing me to Tokyo to murder me? Is that why you’re being so secretive.”

“No.”

Haru rolled his eyes, picking a strawberry off Daisuke’s plate with his fingers. He popped it into his mouth. “It was a joke, Dai. But I am curious about your friend. Daichi, was it? God—Daisuke, Daichi—that's going to be confusing once we get there.”

“Daichi's the same age as I am. We’ve known each other since we were kids," Daisuke explained. "His father's company does a lot of coding for my mom. He developed HEUSC, actually. He’s getting married to his long-time boyfriend.”

“Aww, that’s so sweet!” Haru crooned, his lips staining a gentle red from the berry. Daisuke leaned forward to steal a taste, pressing his lips chastely to Haru’s. Haru leaned into the kiss before he urgently pushed Daisuke away for the sake of public decency. “I wasn’t talking about you, you big puppy. You’re a sap, as per usual.”

A satisfied smirk on his face, Daisuke leaned back in the booth and let Haru finish the final bite of his crepe. Maybe he  _ was _ a sap, but seeing the smile on Haru’s face every time he did or said something embarrassing was totally worth it.

“The strawberries are sweet,” Daisuke muttered, just low enough for Haru to hear across the table. Then, very discreetly, he licks his lips.

Haru flushed a bright red, raising a hand to smack Daisuke on the shoulder with an affronted noise. Daisuke laughed, rubbing the aching spot on his shoulder as he stood to lead Haru out of the café and to their office building.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll try to make the next chapters much longer, I swear...
> 
> the characters, so far:
> 
> Haru and Daisuke, partners and boyfriends in New York City. Both of Japanese descent.
> 
> Suzue and Kiyoko, who work in technology (but Haru doesn't know how deeply, yet) and are associated with the MI6 (but, again, Haru doesn't know that yet)
> 
> Daichi, Daisuke's childhood best friend, getting married to his boyfriend (can you guess who the bf is?). Daichi developed HEUSC!
> 
> Ryo, Haru's best friend and former partner, who now lives in Japan.
> 
> Also, Daisuke's family name is spelled as both "Kanbe" and "Kambe" on the fanpage so I didn't know which one was right?? I just used AO3's "Kanbe" to match the tags.
> 
> EDIT: 7/15/20, I changed everything to "Kambe", which is the official name.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Three ladies have tea in a living room. Daisuke tells Haru about his family. The Dai-chans have a happy reunion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for the patience, y'all! this is a doozy of a chapter!!!

**A penthouse apartment in Downtown Tokyo**

“I hope you’ll enjoy this new tea I found. It’s imported from Bangladesh.”

“Sounds much too complicated for my simple tastes.”

“Please, Kanoka-nee, you barely have taste and the little you do have is anything _but_ simple.”

Kiyoko couldn’t help the uncivilized snort that escaped her mouth after the insult. “Miwa!” She scolds her youngest sister, without any real heat in her voice. 

“Kiyoko-nee, you know you wanted to say it, too,” Miwa rolled her eyes, picking up her teacup and taking a sip. She easily avoided the wadded-up napkin her sister threw at her, swatting it out of midair. Miwa had always been the athletic one of the three; it was probably why she happily married into the Kageyama family. “This isn’t bad. Although I preferred the one you made last month. What was it?”

“It was an oolong, I believe. I’ll have the maids send some to your estate later today.”

Kanoka pushed her teacup towards the center of the table with a distasteful grimace on her face. She had never been one for eastern herbal teas, preferring the more western drinks of coffee and fruit teas. 

“I can’t see how you enjoy these things. They’re completely unenjoyable.”

“Because we’re civilized human beings, Kanoka-nee. Maybe you should try it sometime.”

With another unrefined giggle into her palm, Kiyoko quickly composed herself and sat down on the couch next to Kanoka, even as she simmered almost as hot as the freshly-made tea. Kanoka was always the first one of the three sisters to lose her temper. Ever since they were children.

“Kanoka, I’ve heard Keiji’s made great progress on the Singapore deal. He seems to be gaining competence quickly when it comes to the negotiation side of things.”

“Yes,” Kanoka sighed, bringing one of the throw pillows into her lap and crushing it in her hands. Kiyoko wanted to protest, something similar to _those are designer_ playing on the tip of her tongue, but she let it go. Kanoka’s face looked positively spiteful. “It’s about time he used his father’s genes for something useful. That Akaashi blood gave him another weapon and he hasn’t been able to fully use it ‘til recently. He’s finally sticking up for himself in the negotiation room.”

“You mean, like how Hajime did?”

The silence stretched on for an uncomfortable length of time. Kiyoko could only bear it for so long before she spoke again.

“Are his twins doing well? The last time I saw them was a few years ago.”

“They definitely take after Hajime…” Kanoka said, a wince making the wrinkles in her usually-youthful face more prominent, “in both mind, soul, and appearance. I keep thinking all four of them resent me whenever I see them.”

“Hajime does not resent you, Kanoka. Your husband gave him an ultimatum and he chose what mattered most to him. At least his younger brother was there to take over the company. And now, he’s truly happy.”

“I’m glad Hajime is still close with me and Keiji. If my husband destroyed my relationship with my precious eldest son, I would never forgive him,” Kanoka vowed, a fiery look in her eyes. Kiyoko smirks over the rim of her coffee cup, recognizing the trademark Shimizu glare in her eyes. The glare that was so prominent in all of Shimizu Obaa-chan’s descendants, it was practically an heirloom.

Their mother had three daughters. Those three daughters had four sons and one daughter in total. They grew up aware of their relative insignificance in the world of business as Japanese women. But they also learned how to overcome those shortcomings with stubbornness, intelligence, and persuasion.

Kanoka would not let a mere man, even if said man was her husband, walk all over her.

“Don’t talk so ill about your husband, Kanoka-nee,” Miwa scolds, sipping her tea.

“Like you’re one to talk, _Kageyama_ Miwa-san.”

“My husband is perfectly competent, unlike yours. We know how to joke around with one another without divorce papers being flung into the conversation. Tobio is allowed to marry whoever he wants, as long as it is true love.”

“So you’re letting him fuck a volleyball player.”

“Don’t be so crass. If Hinata Shouyou is who Tobio loves, so be it. Besides, his mother is a very pleasant woman to have tea with.”

“You’re a _foolish_ woman, Miwa.”

“At least I’m a believer, Kanoka-nee. You’re too jaded to say the same about yourself.”

“Ladies!” Kiyoko scolded, her voice harsh above their bickering. “We are all grown, married, _accomplished_ women now, so could we please resist from fighting like toddlers? Stop egging each other on before I get a headache.”

“Speaking of headaches, Nee-chan, did you hear that Daisuke’s bringing his boyfriend from New York to Daichi and Koushi’s wedding? Katou Haru? Do you know anything about him?”

Kiyoko scoffed and picked up her teacup, using it as a shield to hide her grimace. But Kanoka could probably still see it. “Daisuke dates many people. I can’t possibly keep track of them all.”

They all knew it was a lie. Daisuke wasn’t even one to _talk_ to another person without being prompted, let alone date. Still, Kiyoko kept with the lie, smoothly schooling her face into one of indifference.

“I have a private investigator that I use to keep track of Hajime,” Katoka offered. “It’s very discreet, if you want to look up his past.”

“Kanoka-nee, that’s seriously creepy.”

“No thanks, Kanoka. I’ll deal with my son myself.”

“He must be from the Philippine Pharmaceutical Katous, right? Or the Okinawa Petroleum Katous?”

“I doubt those uptight, traditionalist Okinawa Katous have a descendant working as a _paltry detective_ in New York.”

“It could be a distant descendant! But those are still connections that could be useful to the family in the future.”

“Regardless of distant familial bonds, I cannot allow it,” Kiyoko leaned forward to place her cup on the coffee table. “His relatives may have power and money, but _he_ does not. It is not a worthwhile relationship.”

“But, Nee-chan, surely you must realize the implications of bringing a boyfriend home to meet the family?” Kanoka questioned, kicking her heels off to pull her feet below her on the couch, curling further around the pillow. She only allowed herself the indignity of acting casual like this around her sisters, during their weekly tea-and-gossip sessions. She didn’t even act this casually in front of her husband.

“I realize them fully. But Daisuke knows it will never happen. I would never allow it. Okaa-chan most definitely would not. And his English side of the family would disprove as well.”

Miwa sighed, mirroring her sister and pulling her legs up onto the couch. She cradled her teacup in her lap, looking wistfully out the window into the vast expanse of Downtown Tokyo. “Whether or not they’ll work out, I think it’s lovely Daisuke found someone in New York. We were all worried he would end up resenting being away from home for so long. But instead he found someone who made him want to stay.”

“You’re such a helpless romantic, Miwa.”

“Shut it, Kanoka-nee!”

“It’s not a good thing,” Kiyoko hissed at her littlest sister. Miwa recoiled and wisely kept her mouth shut, pressing her red-painted lips together in a thin line. “It’s only another hindrance. He needs to come back home and that Katou Haru will only be another thread I have to snip in order to pull Daisuke back to Tokyo.”

“You act as if there’s a red string tied around their pinkies.”

“Maybe there is. But even if such fantasies were real, soulmates simply don’t exist in our circle,” Kiyoko sharply remarked, wisely keeping her eyes to the wall behind Miwa. “Our status does not allow for such luxuries.”

* * *

**JFK Airport, taxi dropoff area, terminal 7**

Haru got out of the taxi, feeling slightly exhilarated at the fact he was _actually going to Japan with Daisuke and meeting his mother._ He held up a small bag of tupperware, filled with homemade snacks to eat on the plane.

Daisuke took the bag from him as Haru went to the trunk to take out their suitcases.

“Let’s get our luggage checked in and then we can search up things to do in Tokyo—”

“Hello, Mr. Kambe. We’ll get your luggage checked in for you. If you’ll allow us to escort you to the General Aviation Terminal for your flight,” a flight attendant said in low Japanese that pierced through the busy English drop-off zone.

Haru looked up from the trunk, startled out of his mind when someone dressed in a fitted suit took the luggage from him and placed it onto a cart. He wasn’t wearing a specific airline’s logo or nametag on his suit, so Haru wasn’t even sure exactly who they were.

The man in the suit sped the luggage in the opposite direction of the ANA gate, as the flight attendant lady led them at a much calmer pace behind him.

“W-wait! We’re at Terminal 7. All Nippon Airlines flights depart from Terminal—”

“Haru,” Daisuke prompted, placing a hand on the small of Haru’s back and urging him to follow the flight attendant, “just go with it, Darling.”

“Uh— o-okay?”

The flight attendant brought them to a private security checkpoint, next to all the busy lines of people waiting for their turn in line. It only took Daisuke and Haru a few moments to have their belongings scanned, their passports and other documents checked by the flight attendants and security personnel, before they were led further into the airport.

“Daisuke, where are we going?” Haru whispered as they passed high-end restaurants with doors lined in gold and polished wood. This part of the airport was obviously the higher-end area.

“To our plane,” Daisuke replied back, like it was obvious.

And they finally came to one of the gates. But instead of walking down a jet bridge into the plane, Daisuke and Haru were led down a flight of stairs onto the tarmac, and across the taxiway.

Haru glanced upwards, his eyes squinting due to the sunlight, before he completely froze.

“What the hell is _that?”_

“It’s a plane, Haru.”

“I can see that, Daisuke,” Haru snapped. “Why does it say KAMBE/SHIMIZU in big gold letters across the sides?”

And not like the ugly, fake yellow-gold. Like, a metallic sort of gold. It was gleaming in the sun. There was a _fucking red carpet_ leading up to the stairs of the plane, as well as a squadron of security guards in perfectly-pressed suits that were nicer than anything Haru owned.

Haru suddenly felt seriously underdressed in his jeans and loose knit sweater—they were the most comfortable clothes he was okay with wearing in public. Even Daisuke’s casual blazer and black jeans fit more with the whole scene than Haru did.

“Because it’s my family’s plane.”

“Your family _owns a Boeing 747?”_

“...yes? Didn’t I just say that?”

“Don’t get smart with me, Daisuke,” Haru growled. “What the hell is going on here?”

Daisuke sighed, holding out his hand for Haru to take, shifting the bag of Haru’s tupperware to his other hand. “I know this is all a little overwhelming, but I promise I’ll explain on the plane. We just really need to get off the taxiway so other planes can take off.”

Haru sobered and took Daisuke’s hand, walking briskly down the taxiway to the red carpet.

“Holy shit,” he mumbled, sticking close to Daisuke’s side as he squeezed his hand tighter. “This is like what they do for the President and Air Force One.”

“I suppose so,” Daisuke chuckled. They didn’t speak again until they were strapped into their seats and preparing for takeoff.

The same flight attendant who met them by the taxi poured them each a flute of champagne and left them alone in the cabin. Looking out his window, Haru could see the security guards scurrying like ants to roll up the carpet, put away the staircase, and board the plane somewhere behind the engines.

“So… Daisuke.”

“Yes, Haru?”

Casual as ever. _Right, this must be normal for him._ Haru took a deep breath and asked the question he’d been holding in since the flight attendant escorted them from the taxi dropoff.

“Your family’s, like… rich…?”

“We’re… comfortable,” Daisuke said after a short pause.

“That is _exactly_ what a really rich person would say.”

Haru turned his body towards Daisuke as best he could, pulling up a knee onto the seat and fixing his boyfriend with a hard stare. Daisuke squirmed a bit under Haru’s gaze. He knew he wasn’t getting away from this. Haru was their division’s best interrogator.

“You’re rich.”

“Yes.”

“And you didn’t tell me.”

“No.”

“I mean, I should’ve seen it coming. Your apartment’s practically a penthouse. You wear designer suits to work, even when we’re just going to the office. You drive a Mercedes sports car even though we live in _Downtown_ _New York..._ I knew your family was well-off to afford those things at _our_ salary, but I guess I just didn’t expect it to this scale.”

“I don’t really flaunt my money too much,” Daisuke shrugs, lacing his fingers with Haru’s and pulling it up to his lips to kiss his knuckles, the silvery burn scar on his index finger from a cooking accident, the thin line on his pinky from a papercut, the calluses along his fingertips from playing guitar. “It’s my family’s money, not mine. I use it sometimes, but not all that often.”

“You can say that again!” Haru exclaims, gesturing around the spacious white interior of the plane. Haru downed the rest of his champagne in one gulp and placed the glass on the table in front of them. “A private airplane?! You use my Netflix account. You like to box at that smelly gym across the street from my apartment. You like eating _McDonald's Big Macs_ whenever we have a stakeout.”

“In my defense, those Big Macs are worth _much_ more than a dollar for how they taste.”

Haru _harrumph_ ed and set his bottom lip downwards in a pout he knew Daisuke was absolutely _weak_ for. “I’m not angry… just a little… confused…? Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I didn’t think it was that important. Like I said, it’s _their_ money. I have my own job, my own apartment, my own life. Away from all the family chaos in Japan.”

Family chaos was an understatement.

“So what _does_ your family do? You have a lot of cousins, right?”

“All my cousins are in different lines of work. It’s complicated.”

Narrowing his eyes, Haru easily spotted the deflection. He knew his boyfriend very well, after all, and he wasn’t the MCPTF’s star detective for nothing.

“Tell me about them. We have a long flight, anyways.”

“Alright…” Daisuke conceded after a few moments. He pressed his lips into a thin line. “My mom’s the oldest of her three siblings. I’m the oldest cousin by a year. Her first younger sister, Kanoka, married a man named Akaashi. They have two children. Hajime, my eldest cousin, and Keiji, who’s the same age as Suzue.”

“Oh, I remember you talking about Hajime!” Haru exclaims, happy to hear a familiar name. “A few years ago, he adopted a kid, right? You showed me their Facebook photo. I thought his last name was Oikawa, though?”

“He fell in love with someone his parents didn’t approve with. Oikawa Tooru works as an astrophysicist, and his parents told him if they married, he wouldn’t inherit the family name, business, or fortune, because Tooru didn’t have a significant upbringing,” Daisuke explained. There was a small, contented smile on his face as he spoke—Hajime was one of his closest cousins. 

“Hajime decided to give up his inheritance and marry Tooru—they have twins named Yuutaro and Akira. His father disowned him, so he’s no longer an Akaashi. He’s still technically a Shimizu, but he doesn’t associate with us anymore. Hajime works as a police officer in Tokyo, now.”

“That’s really romantic. Giving up so much to be with the one you love,” Haru hummed, lifting the armrest dividing them and curling into Daisuke’s side as best as he could with their seatbelts still buckled. Behind them, the engines of the plane began to whine as they powered up fully and took the plane down the taxiway.

Daisuke wrapped his arm around Haru’s shoulders with a little puff of air through his nose. “Should I be jealous, Katou-san?”

“No, idiot. Keep going. What about Keiji?”

“Keiji’s a year younger than Hajime. He’s going to inherit his father’s business—real estate and development—since Hajime won’t, in the next few years. He’s with a man named Bokuto Koutarou… I believe he’s in line to inherit one of the top TV networks in Asia.”

“Oh wow… your entire family’s made of money, aren’t they?”

“You don’t know the half of it. You watch volleyball, right?”

Haru nods once. He wasn’t an avid follower or anything, but he knew the rules and watched the broadcasts when the Olympics happened. Whenever they went to the beaches in summer, he would have fun playing a few rounds in the sand.

“Do you know Hinata Shouyou and Kageyama Tobio?”

“The setter-spiker boyfriends? Yeah, of course I do.”

Daisuke hummed, thinking before he spoke. The engines rumbled to life as the plane began to careen down the runway, up into the sky. Haru snuggled closer, wrapping his arms around Daisuke’s waist and resting his head on Daisuke’s shoulder. “Does Kageyama Sports Ltd. sound familiar?”

Taking a moment to think, a metaphorical lightbulb went off in Haru’s head.

 _“No way_ … Kageyama Tobio is the heir to Kageyama Sports? I own so many of their tracksuits.”

“He’s my youngest cousin. An only son, so his parents aren’t too strict about who he’ll marry. And Auntie Miwa isn’t a very harsh person like my mother and Auntie Kanoka are. Hinata’s not from a poor family by any means, they own a bunch of farms in Miyagi, but he’s definitely not considered upper class.”

“And they’re both living their dreams as volleyball players. They’re even partners on the court and in real life.” Haru lifted his head from Daisuke’s shoulder, a bright gleam in his eyes. “It kind of sounds like you and I!”

Daisuke leaned forward to press a kiss to Haru’s smile, nipping contently at his bottom lip when Haru let out a low moan. He pulled away shortly after, not wanting to cross the—ahem— _point of no return_ on his family airplane. He lifted his flute of champagne to his lips and sipped the final bit, placing the glass down on the table next to Haru’s.

“It does. Tobio and Shouyou get along like a house on fire. And I mean that literally and metaphorically. They’re balls of energy, especially together.”

“Chaotic cousins? Sounds familiar,” Haru laughs, thinking of his own cousin.

“My cousins are all chaotic, in general. I have a few second cousins, but there are too many to name. You’ll probably end up meeting all of them later, though.”

“Sounds fun… maybe sometime this week, I’ll introduce you to _my_ family.”

Daisuke tilted his head towards Haru, an inquisitive look on his face. “I’ve already met your whole family, though.”

“You’ve met my cousin and my aunt. But you haven’t met my parents yet,” Haru corrected. His voice dropped down until he was just barely audible over the whine of the plane’s engines. “They’re buried somewhere in Tokyo. I haven’t gone to wash their graves since I was last in Japan… that must’ve been eight years ago.”

His voice sank down into a melancholic mumble. Daisuke sighed at the sudden drop in Haru’s mood.

“Is there anyone taking care of them?”

“No…? I don’t think so. It’s just my aunt, and her ex-husband couldn’t care less about my parents. We don’t have any real family left in Japan that I know of.”

Something rumbled deep in Daisuke’s chest. Haru leaned down to rest his head against it. “Don’t be sad, Dai. It happened a long time ago. I’m over it. I’ll be a good son and visit them soon. Wash their graves and burn incense, all that jazz. It’s the least I can do after being away so long.”

“You don’t have to act so Japanese, you know.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?!”

Daisuke raised his free hand in surrender when Haru lifted a fist to punch him in the shoulder with. “Nothing! You’re just… very polite and diligent and honorable—”

“I’m like that every day, bastard!”

“But today in particular. Maybe you should act like that all week. It might give you some kudo points with my mother. Make you seem ‘more like them’. More Japanese.”

Haru pouted and traced the veins of Daisuke’s hand with his fingertips. “I’m more Japanese than you are. My parents were full Japanese. I was born and raised in Japan. I only moved to America when I was thirteen, after they died. I don’t see your point.”

“My family won’t see it that way. You’re still an ‘outsider’.”

“Because I wasn’t born into money like you and your cousins?”

“Because you didn’t grow up understanding the sacrifices the business elite make,” Daisuke said, carefully choosing his words. “We were all born into this life and prepared for years to inherit our businesses. People don’t generally understand the preparation that goes into it. They don’t understand how isolating it can be, and they’re unprepared for just how different it is from ‘normal life’.”

It irritated Haru how easily Daisuke categorized it as “normal life”. As if it were a deficit to people to be born to common families.

“What about Daichi and his fiance? Did he have to get used to the wealthy lifestyle, too?”

“Daichi and Koushi have known each other since middle school. Koushi’s one of my closest friends, too. Koushi’s family owns one of the top luxury resort chains in Asia, actually, so he grew up with those sorts of expectations on him already. It would be hard if Koushi was from a poor family.”

Haru raised an eyebrow, even though Daisuke couldn’t see it. “To marry into Daichi’s family?”

“To get used to the lifestyle. It’s different. Everyone knows everyone’s business and you’re at risk of offending the most powerful people in the world if you say or do something wrong. But Koushi’s very down-to-earth, even if he can be a little much at times. I think you’ll like him.”

“It doesn’t really make sense to me, but I suppose I’ll just have to live with it if I’m going to be with you.”

Daisuke nodded his head once, resolute and defiant. He rested his chin atop Haru’s head, glancing out the window where the plane had just begun to settle above the clouds. 

“That’s right,” he mumbled, lowering his voice as Haru began to doze on his chest. He delicately brushed away some of the hair that had fallen in front of Haru’s eyes so he could sleep more comfortably. “You’re not going anywhere, Love.”

* * *

**Haneda Airport — Tokyo, Japan**

“I don’t think I’ve ever been to an airport that has a Planetarium Cafe,” Haru breathed out, staring at the sign as Daisuke led him to the pickup area, their suitcases pulled along in a cart by one of the flight attendants. “Was Haneda always this cool?”

“You just rode in a private jet and you’re surprised about a café.”

“Speaking of which, why are we going to pickups? I expected a limousine or something, after that red carpet display in New York.”

“Oh, it’s because—”

“Dai-chan! Dai-chan, you’re here!”

The voice caused Daisuke to freeze and glance up, an excited glint in his eyes. Behind a crowd of people waiting for new arrivals, Haru spotted a giant bundle of balloons comically making its way around the crowd, revealing a silver-haired man in loose sweatpants and an even looser t-shirt. His hair was all out-of-wack, suggesting that he either just woke up or couldn’t be bothered to style it properly that morning. He crossed the distance in no time at all, a wide beam on his face.

“Suga!” Daisuke cheered, opening his arms for Koushi to jump into, stumbling back with a choked laugh before regaining his footing.

Haru balked. _This_ was Sugawara Koushi? The heir to a billion-dollar luxury resort chain? Who was marrying Daisuke’s best friend? He seemed so… normal.

“Oh, and you must be Haru!” Koushi cooed after detaching himself from Daisuke, pulling Haru down into a warm hug that he immediately returned. “It’s so nice to meet you! I’ve heard so much about you!”

“All good things, I hope,” Haru responded, pulling back sheepishly.

“Daisuke!” A deeper voice called, and Haru looked up to spot another man, wearing similar casual clothes to Koushi and holding a poster that said ‘Dai-chan family reunion!!’ in big, flowery letters. And lots of glitter.

“Daichi!” Daisuke called, accepting the hug from his best friend. There was a smile on his face that was happier than any expression Haru had ever seen on him before. He seemed ecstatic to be back home and see his friends. Daisuke easily slipped into Japanese, _“You’re getting married, Dai-chan!”_

 _“Next is your turn, asshole,”_ Daichi flung back, thumping Daisuke on the back three solid times. “And you must be Haru! It’s so nice to finally meet you,” Daichi said, hugging Haru in turn. “Thank you for attending our wedding. Daisuke probably wouldn’t have come if you didn’t force him.”

“Oh, it’s no problem at all. I thought it was about time that he returned to Japan.”

“For your first day back, we’ve planned a fun night out in Tokyo!” Koushi said, taking Haru’s hand and leading them to the airport exit, Daichi taking the cart of luggage from the flight attendant. “After all, it would be a shame to miss out on the Sakura festivals that are going on this week. There’s so much food to try!”

And boy, did they try the food. By the time the sun went down, Haru had been stuffed full of various croquettes, daifuku, takiyaki, and more. Every street stall they encountered had something new and interesting to try, and all four of them were eager to continue eating.

“Hey, Daisuke, remember that old crepe store we used to eat at when we were in high school?”

“Yeah?”

“It’s still around. It’s on the next block.”

“No way, dude.”

“Yes way.”

Their banter was honestly adorable. Haru had never seen Daisuke act so carefree like this around anyone back home in New York. Daisuke was always painfully formal, unless they were in the privacy of one of their apartments.

“I can’t remember the last time I saw Dai-chan like this,” Koushi muttered playfully, linking his elbow with Haru’s as they walked just behind their partners.

“My Dai-chan or yours?” Haru fired back.

Koushi threw his head back and laughed, a charming little noise that made something warm ignite in the middle of Haru’s chest. Koushi was just pleasant to be around.

“Yours, obviously. Daisuke’s not usually this easygoing.”

Gesturing inconspicuously with his free hand, Koushi impelled Haru to watch the two best friends interact. Daisuke and Daichi wore matching grins, which shone brighter under the light of the lanterns.

“He’s just happy to be back home,” Haru sighed.

“Yeah. Happy to be home _with you,”_ Koushi corrected, nudging Haru in the side.

And, not to lie, that sounded very appealing to Haru.

“By the way, Daichi and I are having separate bachelor parties this weekend. Since Daisuke is obviously going to Daichi’s, I was wondering if you wanted to come to mine? A few friends and I are going to one of my mom’s resorts and relaxing before the big day.”

Haru smiled in gratitude. “Honestly, that sounds amazing. Thank you.”

“Hey, hey, Koushi, Haru! We need to show you our old hangout spot! They have the best crepes here!”

Daisuke and Daichi took off on a light jog and Koushi chuckled, picking up the pace to catch up. Haru followed just behind him, easily dodging people on the street as they ran like teenagers through the crowd.

So far, the trip back home wasn’t looking _too_ bad.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> famous last words lol
> 
> Anyways, here's the Shimizu family tree so far:
> 
>  **Shimizu:**  
>  Shimizu Obaa-chan has three daughters: Kiyoko, Kanoka, and Miwa (in that order)
> 
>  **Kambe:**  
>  Mr. Kambe (Daisuke's father) - from a family of MI6 agents  
> Kambe Kiyoko - eldest Shimizu daughter - owns a technology company  
> Kambe Daisuke - eldest Kambe sibling/eldest Shimizu cousin - works in NY as a detective - in a relationship with Katou Haru  
> Kambe Shimizu - youngest Kambe sibling/only female cousin - in line to inherit Shimizu company
> 
>  **Akaashi:**  
>  Mr. Akaashi (Keiji's father) - owns an international real estate company  
> Akaashi Kanoka - middle Shimizu daughter  
> Oikawa Hajime - eldest Akaashi sibling - disowned from Akaashi line - works as a police officer - married to Oikawa Tooru - has twin boys  
> Akaashi Keiji - youngest Akaashi sibling - in line to inherit Akaashi company - in a relationship with Bokuto Koutarou
> 
>  **Kageyama:**  
>  Mr. Kageyama (Tobio's father) - owns a Japanese sports manufacturing company  
> Kageyama Miwa - youngest Shimizu daughter  
> Kageyama Tobio - only Kageyama child/youngest cousin - professional volleyball player - in line to inherit Kageyama company - in a relationship with Hinata Shouyou


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hajime, Keiji, and their father have a business meeting. Haru meets Ryo's family. The Ushijima siblings give Haru a makeover.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Iwaizumi and Akaashi are twins separated at birth, fite me.

**A car in Tokyo, headed to a five-star restaurant downtown**

“Hajime! I’ve told you countless times before that tardiness is not accepted in this family. You can’t expect to make business partners without keeping a tight schedule. You should be more like Keiji. He’s younger than you, but he has more sense in him.”

“Yes, father,” Hajime sighed, straightening his tie. In all honesty, he would rather be anywhere else in the world than there, in the car with his father, but it was always difficult to oppose him. His father knew his schedule from contacting the secretary of his police station, and took him to business meetings on his days off.

He would rather be at an amusement park with Tooru and the twins, or at the aquarium to look at weird-colored fish, or even just spending time at home. Not being dragged around to stupid business lunches with his father and younger brother.

“This business venture is critical for the Akaashi Enterprise. I expect you two to be on your best behavior.”

“Yes, father,” Keiji parroted, though he sent a level gaze at Hajime when he didn’t respond. 

Hajime rolled his eyes and averted his gaze. Keiji was always the obedient one between the two of them.

Meeting the “critical business partner” (all of them were considered “critical”, apparently) was exactly as boring as Hajime predicted. Keiji took to the interaction like a fish in water, bowing to the proper people, making small talk when it was necessary, and influencing the contract in the way that benefited their company the best.

Hajime sat in the seat to his father’s left—he wasn’t even worthy of the right-hand seat anymore… Keiji took it from him—and kept his mouth shut, his eyes turned to his plate of barely-eaten food in disinterest.

“And your other son?” One of the partners inquired.

The man’s Japanese was friendly, albeit a bit accented. They were a Taiwanese construction corporation that his father was looking to partner with for their new planned apartment complex in Taipei.

“This is my eldest, Hajime. He currently doesn’t work with our company.”

“Nice to meet you, Akaashi-kun.”

“I’m  _ Oikawa _ Hajime,” he emphasized, holding out a hand to shake. “It’s nice to meet you as well, Zhou-san.” He could feel his father’s steely glare on the side of his head, but he dutifully ignored it. 

He didn’t speak another word for the rest of the meal.

“Thank you for your time,” their father said, standing up to bow goodbye after the contract was signed. 

“Thank you very much,” Keiji bowed as well. Just to keep the symmetry and not be  _ entirely _ disrespectful to their business partner, Hajime stood up and bowed as well.

The Taiwanese partners left the private conference room, leaving the fragmented family to watch them go. Akaashi-san was quiet for a good few moments, his figure unmoving. Keiji and Hajime stared at his back.

Then, he whirled around and backhanded Hajime so hard that he stumbled down to a knee from the shock. 

“You pathetic child,” Akaashi-san hissed, stepping closer for another slap. He probably would’ve done it, too, if it weren’t for Keiji wrapping a heavy hand around their father’s bicep and holding him back.

“Father,” Keiji implored, his eyes glued to the floor, refusing to make contact with his father and his brother, even as they stared at him in astonishment. He rarely ever went against his father. “Please. Don’t do this here.”

Akaashi-san snarled and shook Keiji’s grip off his arm. Hajime lifted a hand to his stinging lip. When he pulled it back, his finger was red with a spot of blood.

“Hajime, I have never been as disappointed in you as I am today.”

Their father stormed off and slammed the door behind him, leaving an icy trail in his absence. Keiji immediately sat on the ground next to his brother once their father left.

“I don’t know how you put up with him every day,” Hajime grunted with a small, humorless chuckle coloring his tone. He accepted the white handkerchief Keiji handed to him, dabbing at the cut on his lip. “I see him once every other month and I can’t stand it at all.”

“It’s not funny, Hajime-nii.”

“I know it’s not funny, Keiji,” Hajime sighed. “But if he’s hitting me, it means he’s not hitting you.”

Keiji leaned his weight into Hajime’s side, just the way they would sit together on the couch when they were kids. His eyes glared down at his clasped hands, where his knuckles were turning white from the pressure. He was incredibly angry at himself, and Hajime could see it clear as day. “You shouldn’t have to protect me anymore.”

“I’ll protect you for as long as I have to.”

He tilted his head back so it thumped against the wall. Keiji rested his cheek against Hajime’s shoulder. They stayed like that, sharing warmth and balance in the empty room that smelled of expensive wine and unfinished food.

“It’s not fair. He disowned you and he still thinks he can treat you like shit.”

“I’m the one who keeps coming back whenever he asks.”

“Because you know he’ll give you and your family hell if you don’t!” Keiji cried. “You and him came to an agreement. You wouldn’t claim his name anymore and he wouldn’t bother you and Tooru-nii! You shouldn’t put up with this anymore, Nii-san.”

Hajime saw the logic.  _ Of course _ he did. But at the same time, how could he not? Being an Oikawa already gave him more autonomy. It granted him freedom from the family company, and a break from his father. He didn’t need to ask for anything more.

“But he’s my  _ father, _ Keiji.”

“He’s not your father anymore. You’re an Oikawa now. You should just move to America with the twins and Tooru-nii. Disappear off the face of the world for a little bit, ask for help from Daisuke-nii or something. Then he can’t bother you.”

“Maybe,” Hajime hummed, nudging his little brother with an elbow. The cut on his lip finally stopped bleeding, though it would most definitely bruise later on. “But then I’ll won’t get to see you and Mama for a while… maybe never. And somehow, that hurts more than anything he could ever inflict on me.”

Keiji leaned forward to cry into the sleeves of his blazer, curling his knees into his chest. Hajime slung an arm over his spine and held him, ever the stronger older brother. He never cried after his father beat him, no matter how much it hurt afterwards. But Keiji always did.

This was how they worked. Hajime would get hit for Keiji. Keiji would cry enough tears for both of them. It’s been the same since they were little boys, still too small to look over the big dining table at Shimizu Obaa-chan’s house.

“You’re my  _ only _ little bro, Keiji. If that bastard gave me anything in my lifetime, he gave me  _ you.” _

“You’re full of shit, Nii-san.”

They left the conference room shortly afterwards, leaving the food, wine, and red-spotted handkerchief for someone else to clean up.

* * *

**A large, gated estate in the suburbs near Tokyo**

“Holy shit, Haru, is that you? You look like the socks my dogs chew up and spit out.”

Haru leveled Ryo with a steady glare, even as his best friend sent a cheeky grin and pulled him into a tight hug. Although he was tired, angry, and kind of uncomfortable, he settled into Ryo’s embrace easily and accepted the familiar warmth.

“I didn’t get back to the hotel until four this morning… Daisuke and his friends kept buying more street food for me last night and I couldn’t muster up the courage to say no.”

Ryo rolled his eyes, balling a fist to lightly punch Haru in the gut. “I hope you have enough space in your stomach for lunch… my parents prepared a whole-fucking-feast.”

Haru let out a  _ pfft.  _ “Oh, please. I didn’t wake up in time for breakfast and I’m starving.”

Looking behind his best friend, Haru took note of the white house that sat proudly between two large sakura trees. The house was a similar style to the White House, with tall, thick columns leading towards the front door.

“Is that Haru, Ryo?” A voice called out from the front door of the house, and Haru turned to greet Ryo’s father. He was wearing a loose red button-up shirt that looked like it was made from silk or something ostentatiously expensive like that, as well as tailored white slacks. Even with the nice outfit, he wore bright pink hello-kitty slippers that were worn and dirty from use.

“Hello, Ushijima-san,” Haru greeted, stepping away from Ryo to dip his head low.

Ryo’s father scoffed and waved a hand in dismissal. “Wakatoshi’s the  _ real _ Ushijima here. I’m just an imposter. Call me Satori!”

“Satori-san, thank you for inviting me for lunch.”

“Ah…” Satori sighed, walking over to Haru and slinging an arm over his shoulder, tugging him to the front door. “You actually have  _ respect! _ Ryo, maybe you could learn a thing or two from this friend of yours.”

“Shut up, Dad! I’d have respect for you if you were more like Papa!”

“If everyone were like Wakatoshi, the world would be no fun, Ryo-chan,” Satori hummed, walking Haru further into the genkan and pointing to a pair of plain grey guest slippers for Haru to borrow during his stay. “Lunch is already prepared, and everyone’s waiting for you. We all want to meet the friend who kept Ryo from dying of starvation in New York!”

“Shut it, Dad, I can cook for myself.”

“Ryo-chan, you can’t microwave ramen to save your life,” Satori deadpanned.

“Is Haru here?” A little voice asks from one of the hallways they passed. Haru stopped to look at one of Ryo’s little brothers, one he vaguely recognized from pictures, but couldn’t remember the name of.

Ryo bounded over to his younger brother and slung an arm over his shoulder, placing all his weight on him even as he cried out for mercy. “This little shit is Kenjirou, my biological little bro. He’s eight years younger than me—he just graduated high school a few weeks ago!”

“What are you sounding so proud for? You didn’t do shit to help me.”

Ryo just chuckled, giving Kenjirou a spiteful little noogie and walking into the dining room, highlighted by a grand archway with gold paint and extravagant marble carvings.

“Papa! Haru’s here. Haru, meet Ushijima Wakatoshi, my other father, and Ushijima Tsutomu, my littlest brother.”

“Nice to meet you, Katou-san,” Wakatoshi stood up from his seat at the head of the table, bowing at a perfect forty-five degree angle to greet Haru. It kind of made Haru uncomfortable to see such a tall and obviously accomplished man bowing so formally to him, but he accepted the greeting and made sure to bow just the  _ slightest _ bit lower and longer than Wakatoshi did.

“It’s nice to meet you as well, Wakatoshi-san. And you too, Tsutomu-kun.”

“You’re Haru-chan?” Tsutomu asked, barely glancing up from his phone. “You look a lot different than I thought you would.”

“Tsu-chan! You can’t be rude like that to my best friend!”

“Shut up, Nii-chan! I can do what I want!”

Kenjirou sighed and walked past his brother to take his seat at Tsutomu’s side. “Can the two of you stop being immature? I want to eat already. And Aniki, you’re nearly  _ twice _ Tsu-chan’s age.”

“Now now, everyone, please don’t act… like  _ yourselves _ while we have a guest,” Satori sat at the other head of the table, waving to an empty seat for Haru to sit in next to Ryo, and across the table from Tsutomu. The table was covered in extravagant plates of food, both traditional Japanese and more western dishes (like a tray of grilled hotdogs and ketchup… because that  _ totally _ made sense). “Haru doesn’t need to experience the distasteful sides of your personalities.”

“So, Haru, what do you do in America?” Wakatoshi asked as everyone began eating. 

“Oh, well, I work as a detective under the MCPTF. My partner and I are head detectives of our division.”

“Oh, I see,” Satori hummed. “So, you two worked at the same place for a year and  _ one _ became a star detective, and the other came back home to work as a glorified manager for J-Pop idols.”

“Dad!” Ryo barked. “J-Pop idol fans are like rabid honey-badgers. Working as a security guard is a dangerous profession.”

Satori, Tsutomu, and Kenjirou all rolled their eyes in perfect synchronicity and Haru could really see the family resemblance. If he remembered correctly from stories Ryo told him while they worked together, Tsutomu was Wakatoshi’s son with Satori’s personality, and Kenjirou was Satori’s son with Wakatosi’s personality.

They were a handful to be around, if Haru was being honest. But it was sort of endearing to see a big family act so close with one another. He never really got that, growing up with his aunt and cousin in a small apartment near Chinatown. (The closest he got to a big family were the aunties and uncles at the Chinese restaurant near his apartment who mistook him for an ABC, but still accepted him after he revealed himself to be Japanese.)

“Hey, Tsu-chan,” Kenjirou hissed to his little brother, who was eating while lazily scrolling through his phone.  _ “This _ is the type of guy you should be looking for. Not those short, feminine anime guys who could pass for butch girls.”

“Hey, no—” Ryo protested, literally facepalming. His hand met his forehead with a light  _ slap. _ “Don’t do that, Kenji. Haru’s here with his boyfriend, anyways.”

“Oh? You’re in a relationship?” Wakatoshi asked.

Haru nodded, delicately wiping at his lips with the white dinner napkin before he spoke. It came away red with a bit of ketchup. “Daisuke is my partner in the MCPTF. We got together a while back and we’re here to meet his family and go to his best friend’s wedding.”

“He’s from Tokyo?”

“Yes, although he went to school in London. His family’s business is here, though.”

“Well, what’s his name?” Wakatoshi placed his chopsticks down, in interest of the conversation. “The business world of Tokyo is very small… perhaps I know his family.”

“His name is Kambe Daisuke.”

All five members of the family choked on their food in tandem. The dining room fell into silence, and over Tsutomu’s shoulder, Haru could even make out some of the servants peeking through the open archway and whispering to one another.

Ryo was the first one to recover.

“The Dai-chan you’re dating is  _ Kambe _ Daisuke?”

Satori mumbled something under his breath. “His best friend’s… You’re going to  _ Sawamura Daichi’s _ wedding?!”

“Yeah… what?” Haru felt very uncomfortable under the heavy gazes of Ryo’s family. “You guys know them or something?”

“Hell yeah!” Kenjirou exclaimed, his face more active than Haru had ever seen in the few short minutes they’d known one another. At his side, Tsutomu lifted his phone and snapped a few pictures of Haru. “The Kambes and the Sawamuras are the biggest technology developers in Japan, and maybe even in the whole world!”

“Not to mention, their extended family also has money and power,” Wakatoshi added. “The Akaashis are one of the top developers in East Asia, the Kageyamas sponsor international tournaments with their sporting gear and equipment, the Sugawaras are the  _ biggest _ Asian-run resort chain in the world. Their little circle is the most influential group of people in our hemisphere—”

“Sugawara Koushi and Sawamura Daichi’s wedding is, like, the  _ event of the century _ here in Japan. It’s not everyday that two openly gay Asian men of high society get married. The Shimizu Group is like  _ royalty—” _

“He gets it!” Ryo cut in, seeing the increasingly panicked look on Haru’s face. “You didn’t know? How could you not know?!”

“What are they like?” Satori asked, with an openly excited look on his face. “Are they as snobby as everyone thinks they are?”

“Well… I don’t really know. I just got here yesterday and I’m meeting his family later tonight. Dai’s grandmother is going to have a party at her house.”

“You’re going to the head of the Shimizu family wearing  _ that?” _

Haru glanced down at his outfit; it was a fashionably loose ivory button-up that Daisuke mentioned once or twice looks good on Haru’s figure, paired with some black skinny jeans and Haru’s most comfortable pair of dress shoes. 

“Yes?”

“Holy shit,” Tsutomu whispered, horror wide in his eyes. “He needs an entire makeover.”

“What?”

“Yes, right now,” Kenjirou pulled his napkin off his lap and pushed his seat away from the table. “Dad, Papa, please excuse us. We have an emergency to attend to.”

“Yes, of course,” Wakatoshi dismissed them with an easy wave of his hand, returning to his food. “Just make sure to eat lots of dinner later.”

The three Ushijima siblings pulled an unwilling Haru out of his chair and dragged him to Ryo’s room, where he was seated on a plush couch in the walk-in closet. The three siblings flitted around the closet, picking out suits and accessories that they fancied.

“Haru, you’re about my size, right?”

“Does he have pierced ears?”

“He has nice shoulders and a thin waist… we need to find something that would highlight that.”

“He’s pretty tall… shame we can’t get him to wear heels.”

(Haru choked on his one saliva when he heard Kenjirou mumble the last one.)

“I don’t get what the big deal is,” Haru sighed as the thirtieth blazer was held up to his chest to size. “Daisuke’s not gonna care what I wear.”

“He may not, but his family sure will.” Ryo grunted and tossed a tight black turtleneck at Haru’s face. “Put that on.”

Haru rolled his eyes and unbuttoned his white shirt to exchange it for the black one.

“Look, these people are so influential, they have direct ties to the Emperor,” Kenjirou held up a black blazer for Haru to slip on once he was finished changing. It hugged his shoulders but loosely flowed around the rest of his torso. “Some people even think that the Shimizus have been friends of the Emperor for thousands of years.”

“And their friend group is known to contain some of the most spoiled, bitchy people on the planet,” Tsutomu added, holding out thin silver jewelry for Haru to slip on.

Haru put the rings on, fitting them on the fingers that felt the least likely for them to fall off. The loose necklace he easily ducked his head to put on. But the single, dangling earring he hesitated to grab.

“I don’t think I want to put that one on…” he mumbled, retracting his hand.

“Why not? You have a piercing,” Tsutomu said, gesturing to the single black stud in Haru’s ear.

“But this is… a special device, and a gift from Daisuke. I think I’d rather keep it in. Sorry…”

Ryo took the earring from his brother and slipped it into his pocket. “That’s fine. I think Daisuke will be much more pleased to see you wearing his gift, anyways. Now… we just need to style your hair, do a bit of makeup, and we’ll be done!”

“You’re putting  _ makeup _ on me?!”

“Bitch, of course we are! Your eyebags are more designer than my Gucci!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sooo Hajime and Tooru's story is kinda what I replaced astrid's story with... like I said before, I don't want this to be an _exact_ copy of crazy rich asians, so i've changed quite a few plot points up.
> 
> but is there any character in particular that you want to see suzue paired up with? i was thinking semi or terushima... someone "delinquent-like" that the family wouldn't approve of (although semi's a sweetheart). Or maybe someone from inarizaki like kita or one of the miyas. (side note: i was originally going to pair up shirabu and semi but decided against it last-minute because it was just another unimportant detail that added words but no real importance)
> 
> as you can see, i'm just kinda going with the flow for this fic. i don't have any real plans other than "oH tHaT SouNDs cOoL LeMMe wRIte iT"
> 
> so sorry if everythings a bit confusing, it's not you, i promise, it's entirely me


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